


Save Your Breath

by extraordinary



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, PWP, Rimming, ice cubes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-04-12
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:23:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6311356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extraordinary/pseuds/extraordinary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rin nods his head, swallowing audibly, and makes an effort to pull his legs a little closer to his chest (to relay the full extent of his cooperation). Then he remembers Haru can't actually <i>see</i> him do these things, and hurriedly adds a little verbal encouragement: "Knock yourself out," He invites, feeling inexplicably shy all of the sudden. "I'll let you know if I don't like it — <i>I swear.</i>"</p><p>For Harurintercourse's Day #1 'FIRSTS' bad/awkward sex + negotiation & Day #7 'EXPLORATION' no penetration + toys. (In short: "first time Haru & Rin try rimming"!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Harurintercourse Day #1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maokatsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maokatsu/gifts), [CacophonyOfWords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CacophonyOfWords/gifts).



Rin's boneless form is currently spread out in an artless sprawl across two of the blissfully cool tatami mats in Haru's tiny-ass 4.5 apartment studio. He's flat on his back, splay-legged, with his hips slightly propped up at a convenient angle by a hastily rolled up towel. His damp t-shirt has been pushed up all the way to his armpits, and he's currently only wearing _one_ sock (a light grey one, with three small black lines running along the cuff).

It's impossible to remember where the other one has disappeared to, right now — but he's pretty sure there's a box of tissues, and an empty water bottle, somewhere near his left elbow.

The one thing he does know for _400% certain_ , though, is that he's feeling embarrassingly out of breath (not to mention disgustingly sweaty), and that the muscles in his spread thighs are actually beginning to tremble under the combined strain of his morning routine and Haru's firm grip insistently holding them in place (in a way he's very much unaccustomed to outside of a competitive environment).

The lingering effects of his recent run-in with a particularly bad case of jet-lag probably aren't helping much either. In fact, he really kind of feels a bit like he's been hit by a truck — or perhaps more accurately: by a fucking **_tidal wave_** — and he might as well _have_ been, because he can't even seem to muster up the strength needed to lift a hand and run grateful fingers through the dark mess of Haru's hair (which he bets would be rather muggy with sweat at the moment, and a little coarse at the tips, but pleasantly malleable nonetheless).

It's just as well, then, that Haru doesn't appear to require any encouragement from Rin at all. He's made himself comfortable between Rin's bare legs, somehow managing to look completely at home with Rin's cock in his mouth despite the oppressive heat of the late summer air wafting in through the open window, and is showing absolutely no intention of moving away from the spot he'd claimed there any time soon.

Haru's current ministrations had actually started out quite laid-back and unhurried at first — just a trail of fleeting little kisses along the most prominent vein on the underside of Rin's gradually hardening length (and the occasional feather-soft touch of moistened lips to the foreskin still covering most of the glans at that point) in what he'd quite fondly come to think of as part of Haru's ongoing efforts to properly _'welcome him home'_ from his recent trip abroad — but soon escalated into broad swipes of a playful and impossibly hot tongue around the increasingly exposed tip, until Rin'd been satisfactorily coaxed into full hardness underneath Haru's focused gaze.

And then _..._ _then_ Haru had abruptly begun sucking Rin's erection into his mouth in earnest (as if he'd suddenly grown impatient for the sharp tang of Rin's pre-cum, and couldn't possibly stand to wait even a second longer).

By now, Rin can feel himself nudge the back of Haru's throat _every. single. time._ its owner determinedly bops his head up and down. No doubt Haru's starting to get a pretty good _taste_ of Rin's rapidly building arousal, as well, and Rin isn't entirely above admitting that he's really looking forward to chasing his own flavour on the back of Haru's tongue...

Well.

At least to _himself_.

Luckily Haru doesn't seem to be planning on coming up for air just yet; Rin can probably spare a moment to gather his resolve, along with the necessary _nerve_ , to pay Haru a much deserved compliment for his enviable vigour.

Because he hadn't fully realised just how much he'd missed this particular skill set of Haru's up until now, really. He'd kind of been (more than just a little) blind-sided by the frustrating inability to simply sling an arm around Haru's shoulders whenever the urge struck him — or, perhaps more importantly, the fact that (up until a few days ago, at least) they weren't even sharing _the same fucking time-zone_ anymore, you know?

In any case; Haru probably won't mind being told that Rin's really missed the feel of his mouth on him (actually, the loveable weirdo might even _like_ hearing it), so Rin doesn't even try to censor himself any longer:

" _Fuck_ ," He starts (oh-so-eloquently), in between desperate gasps for air, as he struggles to push himself up on to his elbows and simultaneously keep his voice down in case any of Haru's neighbours happen to be home during the middle of the day. He's pretty sure none of the sounds they're making carry _that_ far — but he'd rather be safe than sorry (or absolutely fucking _mortified_ ). "H-How in the world did you get so damn good at this, Haru...? I'm going to be jackin' off to this **_for months_**."

Haru finally looks up at his face, then, pinning Rin with such a heated gaze that the weight of it on Rin's skin could easily rival the steadily rising temperature of the room. His pupils are blown so wide his eyes are barely recognisable under the cover of his sweaty fringe. _'There'd be no need for that if you'd just stick around a little more often'_ , they seem to admonish, almost as clearly as if he'd spoken the words out loud, _'But I'll let it slide if you keep saying things like that, Rin...'_

Rin isn't certain he'd have been able to refuse even if he'd wanted to. Not with Haru looking at him like _that_ , anyway.

Fortunately, the low the hum of the rickety old fan in the corner of the room — a rushed purchase from the dodgy looking second-hand shop across the street, or so Rin'd been told anyway, due to a certain blond-haired menace once again having managed to misplace the remote during his last visit (and even Rei's best efforts had apparently failed to locate it this time) — provides the perfect backdrop for his next words.

"It won't be the same, though. Nothing beats the real thing, y'know?" He obligingly continues after a beat, a little self-consciously in spite of his earlier impulsive bluster, and finally manages to find the strength needed to bring up a hand to sluggishly trace the taut line of Haru's jaw with. "You'd better not let this go to your head — but _shit_ , Haru, even in the fucking shower... I've never even come close to getting it to feel anything like _this._ "

Saying these kind of things out loud, especially in broad daylight with the light breeze from the steadily oscillating fan leaving trails of goosebumps all over his skin, never fails to feel like it takes _years_ off of Rin's life. But it's worth it, it really is, because Haru's actually _smiling_ around Rin's erection in response now — and that's gotta be the hottest fucking thing Rin's ever seen.

_Fucking hell._

Clearly appreciative of Rin's verbal form of encouragement, Haru sucks in a noisy breath though his nose and sets about taking him in just a little deeper on each of his next ventures down, down, _down_... until his nose is nearly nudging the prickly stubble at the base of Rin's cock (and Rin's toes have curled so tightly in response it'll probably take more than a conscious effort to unclench his feet again later).

Shit.

_Shit._

**_Shiiiiiiiiit._ **

Rin almost chokes on the high-pitched whimper that gets itself stuck in his throat when Haru begins adding extra suction. His hips spontaneously leave the floor in favour of executing a twitchy series of aborted air-thrusts, and for a blissfully long while everything feels absolutely _amazing —_ right up until the moment Haru abruptly freezes in his tracks as he visibly fights to swallow down a wet cough (with a look of pure, infinite concentration on his face), that is.

Rin struggles — but ultimately manages to succeed, even if it is merely by the skin of his teeth — to hold still while Haru finds his bearings. Both of them are panting pretty loudly by now, and their shaky exhales come out strangely synced (if a little warped by the noise of the fan). Outside, Tokyo's streets are uncharacteristically quiet under the weight of the scorching summer temperature. It's been a least a full twenty minutes since the last time Rin had heard an ambulance drive by.

"S-sorry," He offers, apologetically running his fingers up and down the side of Haru's neck, as soon as he's managed to regain control of his tongue. It's the least he can do. "I'm a little out of practice."

Haru merely raises an eyebrow — as if to say _'You don't seriously think you're the only one, do you?'_ _—_ before getting back to work.

Rin swallows a groan and lets his head fall back onto the floor; helplessly training his eyes on an unidentified stain on the ceiling (for support) the moment his heat-addled mind registers the familiar, tell-tale sensation of Haru dipping a finger into the growing pool of saliva at the base of his cock. Because he knows what _that_ means, all right, and he isn't sure how much longer he'll be able to last once Haru really gets going.

It stings, just a little bit, when he feels Haru slides the tip of a finger into him. It's really been _too fucking long_ , and he doesn't quite remember how to relax and move _with_ the intrusion rather than against it — at least not without a good deal of proper lubrication to ease the way first — but Haru's hot mouth on him goes a long way to keep him distracted from the initial discomfort.

Fortunately Haru seems to have realised that Rin's body wasn't quite as ready as he'd originally thought, however, because he doesn't fight it when it gradually works the intruding digit back out. Instead, he lets Rin's cock slip free from his mouth with a barely audible _pop_ and somewhat pointedly pushes Rin's knees further down towards his heaving chest.

"Rin," He says, then, noticeably drawing out the 'n' at the end — almost as if he's disappointed there's no second syllable to the name (and might even be considering the pros and cons of tacking on an embarrassing honorific to it, simply for the sake of making it _last longer_ ). "Hold your legs up for me."

Confused, but undeniably intrigued (and aroused) by the request-slash-demand, Rin allows Haru to manhandle him into a slightly different position. The rough weave of the tatami is kind of starting to dig into the bare skin of his back and shoulders now, and it's just a touch uncomfortable _—_ but he's willing to put up with it, because he's fairly sure Haru will make it worth his while in the end. He _always_ does, doesn't he?

"What're you planning?"

"I want to try something else," Haru tells him bluntly, as if Rin hadn't yet been able to work that part out for himself. It's practically impossible to stay annoyed with him while his lips look so deliciously red and swollen, though. It's a _really_ good look on him. "Just stay like that. Besides, my jaw's kind of starting to ache."

Rin really doesn't need to be told a _third_ time. He obligingly holds still for Haru _—_ who immediately rewards him by pressing an appreciative kiss down on the hyper-sensitive spot directly beneath his embarrassingly tense balls _—_ then wills himself to keep it up even _after_ he becomes aware of what can only be described as a rather generous helping of Haru's saliva steadily dribbling down right onto the puckered skin even further below.

**_Fuck._ **

Rin's face suddenly feels like it's _on fire_.

A part of him wishes he could melt right into the floor, but another _—_ far more insistent part __—__ desperately wants to be able to _see_ everything Haru is doing back there. Fighting the impulse to crane his neck and meet Haru's eyes across his abdomen (and the rock hard cock resting there), Rin helplessly squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as possible. He's pretty certain he'll shoot his load, right onto his stomach and Haru's hair, if he so much as takes _a peek_ at Haru now.

They've actually done this kind of thing a couple of times before _—_ of course they have, they've been getting each other off in various and increasingly creative ways for nearly a year now _—_ but never without a lot of awkward negotiation and lubrication. Doing it like _this_ (with nothing more than Haru's saliva to ease the way) somehow makes the whole thing feel so much more intimate, dizzyingly spontaneous, and perhaps even a little romantic.

Rin is sweating all over now, which means the skin of his back is starting to stick uncomfortably to the floor and towel beneath him. Haru probably shouldn't want to be anywhere _near_ Rin's ass right now, but he doesn't seem to care about that at all _—_ he's simply drawing slippery circles around Rin's (reflexively twitching) hole with the pads of two of his fingers, gradually applying a little more pressure on each rotation, and his lips are still pressing open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive area underneath Rin's taut balls like there isn't anything else in the whole world he'd rather be doing.

It's really, really, _really_ good.

Fantastic, even.

And it gets even better once Haru starts easing the full length of a finger all the way inside of him, probing and searching until Rin's _really_ having trouble keeping his hips still (and it doesn't even hurt, this time around).

"Ready for another, Rin?" Haru suddenly wants to know, then, and Rin honestly isn't sure how to respond to that _—_ so he just keeps still and waits for Haru to make the decision for him. Haru probably knows his body better than he does himself by now, anyway. "It's going to be a bit dry."

Rin merely makes a low, keening noise in the back of his throat when Haru eventually makes up his mind and carefully works the tip of a second finger inside. It _does_ burn a little at first, but it makes him feel pleasantly stretched and oddly contented at the same time (and the way Haru unabashedly spits onto the back of his fingers before slowly guiding them deeper into Rin's body would probably _mortify_ him if it wasn't also such a turn-on at the same time).

He hasn't felt this relaxed and sated in ages. In fact, he can't even _remember_ the last time he'd felt this good.

It's not enough, though.

He still wants _more_.

"Where's the lube?" He gasps, instinctively rocking his hips up into Haru's touch. He's really missed Haru. He's missed just being near Haru, and having him within touching _—_ and sometimes a little more than simply touching _—_ distance. He's pretty sure he's in love with Haru, practically stupidly so, and that those feelings aren't entirely unrequited. In fact, he's almost feeling delirious with the need to have Haru _even closer_. Doesn't that mean they're ready to go just a little further, this time? They've never really discussed **_it_** before, but he thinks he might be willing to try it now if Haru's up for it. "D'you wanna _—_ "

"It's in the closet. I put it away with the futons this morning," Haru interrupts him, smoothly underlining each word with an unbearably gentle little nudge of his fingers. He's clearly aiming for _helpful_ and _considerate_ (as well as the soft, vulnerable tissue of Rin's sensitive prostate) and he's admittedly making Rin feel pretty damn amazing right now _—_ you know, in spite of his utter obliviousness _—_ _but_ _he's still missing the fucking point by a mile._ "I'm not hurting you, am I? You're still really hard."

Rin isn't sure he's capable of repeating the offer now the wind's been taken out of his sails so effectively, and he's kind of starting to wonder if perhaps _that_ means he wasn't as ready to make it as he'd thought he was in the first place, so he settles for shaking head his emphatically. "No. That's not it," He grudgingly concedes, emphatically arching his back in order to properly emphasize his words (which has the bonus effect of causing Haru's fingers to curl deliciously upwards in response). "I think I might even like it better this way, actually..."

" _—_ 'I _think'_?" Haru echoes, after an unexpectedly long pause, in that weirdly clipped tone of voice Rin has only ever heard him use around his swim club's vice-captain and Shigino Kisumi before _—_ and even _then_ it takes Rin an embarrassingly long moment to realise he's not being teased. It's a genuine question, and Haru's easy-going mood appears to have simply vanished through the open window (while Rin was a little _preoccupied)_. "You'd have told me if you didn't, then?"

"Is this about that thing you said you want to try?!" Rin fires back on auto-pilot, even though he's still reeling from the abrupt change in atmosphere. He'd like to think he's gotten pretty adept at navigating the minefield of Haru's internalised non-issues over the last couple of months, but he really hadn't seen _this_ one coming at all. "In case you hadn't noticed: **_I trust you_** , you idiot. I'd probably even let you fuck me if you wanted to, you know? That doesn't mean I'd just let you do _whatever_ the hell you want, but there's really _—_ "

"You'd let me do that?" Haru butts in _—_ _again_ _—_ just when Rin's voice is seriously threatening to rise (or even worse: crack). Luckily the flabbergasted look on his face goes a long way to alleviate the worst of Rin's ire. It's a little comforting, even. "I didn't know you'd want that."

"Don't _you_...?" Rin forces himself to ask (because deflecting the attention away from his own shameful desires, with yet another question of his own, seems a whole lot better than possibly admitting to wanting something Haru hasn't even _thought_ about doing before).

"Of course I do," Haru replies almost instantaneously. His voice certainly sounds earnest enough, if a little on the croaky side, and Rin is suddenly incredibly grateful they're not looking at each other. He's pretty sure he knows where Haru's strange little hang-ups (and/or occasional insecurities) concerning this _thing_ between them stem from _—_ but knowing his numerous mistakes in the past are the original source isn't enough to help him actually fix anything. "What do you think _I've_ been getting off to, Rin?"

 _'Err... Remote waterfalls? Handjobs in the bathtub? Those kind of things?!'_ Rin's overzealous mind immediately provides, then promptly follows it up by an equally unhelpful: _'How am I supposed to know, you stubborn idiot? You hardly ever bother to tell me any of these things!'_

Thankfully, what eventually comes out of his mouth instead is surprisingly reasonable and amicable. "I'm pretty sure I'd like to give it a go _—_ just, err, maybe not _today_ , though?"

Haru hums, then, in something akin either to agreement or reluctant relief _—_ or maybe it's _both_ at the same time _._ He's been resting his forehead on the back of Rin's thigh for a while now, the palm of his free hand placed flat on the fleshy globe of Rin's left cheek, but Rin's only just noticed (and it's probably too late to complain about it now, anyway).

With the earlier _mood_ somewhat salvaged, Rin can't keep himself from squirming any longer. The saliva Haru'd been using as a lubricant has completely been absorbed now, and the floor's becoming an increasingly uncomfortable place for their little liaison. It's about time they got back down to business _—_ preferably before his erection starts to flag and Haru has a chance to take _that_ the wrong way as well.

Luckily Rin's objective seems to align perfectly with Haru's, for once, because before Rin can even open his mouth to suggest they pick up where they'd left of, Haru's already kissing his way down the inside of Rin's thigh. "I'd let you do it to me, too," He tells Rin conversationally, then, as if he's commenting on the fucking weather (although there _might_ be a distant hint of an apology hidden underneath all the layers of his bravado), before sliding his sweaty palm upwards and wrapping it firmly around the base of Rin's somewhat neglected cock. "If that's what you want."

"That sounds an awful lot like a confession," Rin hears himself comment, a good deal calmer than he's really feeling at the moment, tightening his hands on the back of his knees in a futile attempt to keep the majority of his back flat on the tatami floor. For such a stoic-faced (and positively taciturn) guy, Haru sure knows how to effectively sweep Rin off of his feet with nothing more than a handful of words. " _H-Haru_..."

"Yeah," Haru allows, albeit a little less casually than before, and obligingly gives Rin's cock a light squeeze. "Can I try that other thing now, though?"

Rin nods his head, swallowing audibly, and makes an effort to pull his legs a little closer to his chest (to relay the full extent of his cooperation). Then he remembers Haru can't actually _see_ him do these things, and hurriedly adds a little verbal encouragement: "Knock yourself out," He invites, feeling inexplicably shy all of the sudden. "I'll let you know if I don't like it _—_ _I swear_."

Haru makes an enigmatic little sound in the back of his throat _—_ one that's barely audible over the noise of the fan, but resonates rather powerfully somewhere in the vicinity of Rin's chest nonetheless _—_ before firmly pressing the pads of his index and middle finger up into the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside Rin (as if to remind both himself and Rin that they're still _there_ ). Then, without any further ado, he unabashedly _licks_ the furrowed skin his fingers are currently stretching open.

Fuck. Fuck. **_Fuck_.**

Rin practically yelps Haru's name in shock (so surprised that he's forgotten all about the open window). He's completely frozen in place on the unforgiving weave of the tatami _—_ but Haru simply tightens his grip on the base of Rin's cock and gives it a couple of appeasing strokes to coax Rin's rigid limbs into thawing, like he'd been expecting that reaction from the get-go and had already planned for it accordingly.

"If you're going to tell me _'that's dirty'_ , you might as well save your breath," Haru announces, then, somehow managing to sound positively _reasonable_ in spite of the defensive nature of his words. "I don't care about that."

In turn, Rin manages to successfully swallow down the flurry of knee-jerk protests threatening to escape his throat. "Fair enough," He concedes reluctantly, instead. His body is still involuntarily clenching Haru's fingers so tightly that it's actually beginning to _hurt_ now — and while the ache isn't an entirely unwelcome one, he still doesn't want to risk accidentally turning Haru off from experimenting all together with a badly hidden (undoubtedly double-edged) reaction. He'd promised to be honest about his likes and dislikes, and he intends to stick to his word no matter what, but he isn't sure he's ready to have _that_ kind of conversation with Haru just yet. "Look, I don't want to rain on your parade or anything — but don't you think we should at least be using something prophylactic, or something?!"

Haru sure takes his sweet time mulling possible replies over in his head, but when he finally speaks his voice sounds comfortingly resolute: "I've been reading about it while you were gone," He eventually decides to inform Rin. "It'll be _fine_ , Rin... I can always go get a wash cloth, though. Or some plastic wrap?"

 _That_ makes the second confession Rin wasn't expecting to receive today, nor knows what to do with now that he's been entrusted it. "You wanted to do this badly enough to actually _Google_ it?!"

Haru lifts his head, then, and levels Rin with an unreadable gaze (and the soft hair of his fringe tickles the sensitive skin on the back of Rin's left thigh _in a very distracting manner_ as he does so). His lips are still a little swollen, despite the fact that they've recently been rearranged in a thin little line, and his cheeks are flushed.

"Problem?"

" _No_ ," Rin insists hurriedly, fighting the urge to let his head fall back down to the floor with an exasperated sigh. He's starting to get a little tired of trying to navigate his way through Haru's wildly fluctuating confidence without the benefit of a map or a compass to guide him (and he sorely misses the blissful, boneless state Haru'd so expertly managed to get him into earlier). "I told you to knock yourself out, didn't I? It's **_your_ ** fucking mouth — not mine! If you really want to do it that badly, then just get on with it and _quit stalling_ _already_ _!_ "

Haru looks about as startled to find himself on the receiving end of Rin's sudden outburst as Rin is feeling over having _delivered_ it — his mouth has dropped open in a lopsided little 'o' shape, and his eyes are as wide as the shape of Rin's favourite pair of swimming goggles. The sight of him is more than a little endearing, really, and does a lot to soothe the majority of Rin's frayed nerves.

"Oh."

That's all Haru says, for an excruciatingly long time.

In a last-ditch effort to work his way through the nearly impregnable fortress of Haru's frustratingly thick skull, Rin boldly nudges the tip of his chin in the vague direction of his own crotch — and although the action doesn't _truly_ feel complete without an accompanying irritated huff to underline his ire at being forced to make such an embarrassing gesture in the first place, Rin will simply have to learn how to live with it for the sake of setting them back on track.

Much to Rin's gratification (and relief), though, Haru is instantly caught off-guard by the brazen manoeuvre. His big blue eyes reluctantly shift away from Rin's face to slowly travel down, down, _down_ — until they come to rest on Rin's virtually unaffected erection.

" _'Oh'_...?" Rin mimics pointedly as soon as Haru's brows twitch in apparent surprise, but makes an unusually effective attempt to temper the worst of his indignation. "How did you manage to miss the fact that I'm still rock hard, Haru? For fuck's sake: _move._ "

True to form, Haru recovers satisfyingly quickly. The bewildered expression on his face vanishes as abruptly as it had appeared in the first place, almost like the snap of a rubber band, and another one takes its place: filled with a cautious determination (and a dash of uncharacteristic hesitance). "But you don't look comfortable any more."

Rin would very much like to argue (because he's perfectly capable of speaking up for himself when he needs to, damn it!), but he knows an ultimatum — Haru's particular brand of them, anyway — when he hears one. "Time-out, then?" He suggests, for lack of anything else to say. "You can get the futons back out, and I'll... err... _you know_."

Haru hums in agreement, cooperatively retracting his fingers from Rin's body without waiting to be prompted. The saliva he'd been using as a makeshift lubricant is long gone by now, of course, which makes the slow drag of his finger pads along the sensitive tissue inside of Rin a rather unpleasant one — but the appeasing little kiss he gently presses down on Rin's perineum (the very second he's finished with his self-appointed task) effortlessly chases away any discomfort he'd involuntarily caused.

"... 'm sorry."

It's not entirely clear just _what_ Haru is apologising for, exactly, but Rin hasn't been in the habit of questioning this unusual type of peace offering for a long time now. Instead, he says: "No harm done. You're still planning on making it up to me later, right?"

Temporarily pacified, Haru scoots out of the way and guides Rin's feet back down to the tatami (even though Rin really doesn't require any help there). "Yeah," He agrees, surprisingly complacently. "Just don't take too long, Rin."

Feeling sufficiently reassured, Rin gingerly sets about picking himself up from the floor and immediately beats a hasty retreat into the only other room of Haru's ridiculously cramped apartment.

 

 


	2. Harurintercourse Day #7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly thought I'd have wrapped this story up in time for Harurintercourse 2K16's last day, but as most of you have probably noticed by now... recent events in my country have really hit me pretty hard. It's been difficult to focus on fandom in general — let alone tackle my perpetual writer's block.
> 
> Thankfully, [Maokatsu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/maokatsu/gifts) and [CacophonyOfWords](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CacophonyOfWords/works) agreed to be my cheerleader for the 2nd chapter & the latter even managed to get me _real fired up_ with a seemingly off-handed suggestion concerning... the shape... of... ice cubes... ERRR. YEAH. So, I've decided to publish this part a little prematurely to thank them for their help.
> 
> This means you'll be getting a 3rd chapter at some point, though. Hopefully it's a good deal....? :'D

If Rin weren't already so used to cleaning the area between his legs for the sole purpose of having another person touch him there, he'd probably feel a whole lot more self-conscious about kicking the little plastic stool in Haru's bathroom out of the way before reaching for the shower head and squatting down over the drain.

In fact, he doesn't really feel much of anything at all as he flicks the tap into the correct position and impatiently waits for the steady stream of water to heat up sufficiently. It isn't until he's removed his remaining sock (the light grey one, that had somehow managed to survive Haru's frantic rush to remove his pants earlier), and has purposefully guided the lukewarm spray towards his crotch that he suddenly starts to feel a little _strained_ — a feeling that gradually escalates into full-blown embarrassment by the time he finds himself reaching for the nearest bottle of soap on auto-pilot.  
  
When Rin eventually decides his body is as ready (for whatever Haru has in store for it, anyhow) as it'll ever be, the bottom of his t-shirt is soaked completely through... and his face is, once again, positively on _fire_.

Haru, it turns out, has been impatiently waiting for him at the foot of a neatly made futon. When his heavy-lidded eyes meet Rin's across the room, the frustratingly overdressed idiot doesn't even have the decency to look _a little bit_ self-conscious about the way he's openly palming the prominent bulge at the front of his underwear. Instead, he defiantly asserts: "What...? You've been doing practically the same thing in there."

Rin doesn't even bother to dignify such a crass remark with a response. It's painfully obvious he's still just as hard, after all.

"Just one futon?" He asks instead, as he sets about making himself as comfortable as possible on top of the pale blue towel Haru'd spread out across it for his benefit. There's no pillow for him to rest his head on (which strikes him as a little odd, considering a post-coital Haru has a tendency to doze off whenever there aren't any pressing matters preventing him from doing so), though — and when he curiously cranes his neck to survey the rest of Haru's preparations, he can just about make out the top of what appears to be an empty ceramic bowl half-hiding behind a far more familiar sight: a bottle of water-based lubricant, sitting next to a box of tissues near his feet. " _Whatever_. It'll do, I guess... But, what d'you have the lube out for — and is that _a rice bowl?!_ "

Haru merely raises an eyebrow (which, coming from him, could literally mean _anything at all_ ), and shuffles closer until he's sitting in a perfect _seiza_ position between Rin's splayed legs. "Yes. There's one more thing I want to try," He tells Rin, in a frustratingly flat and unreadable tone of voice, when they've both finished renegotiating their limbs. "It's nothing _weird_ , though."

It's Rin's turn to raise an eyebrow — or rather, _both_ of them. "Not quite as out there as rimming is, huh? You'll have no problem telling me what's hiding in the bowl, then."

Haru visibly hesitates for a moment, precariously leaning forward to brace a sweaty palm on the middle of Rin's sternum (as if to say, _'don't you dare peek!'_ ), but manages to successfully remove all traces of apprehension from his posture before the wake of their earlier tension can begin to drag him back under. "Ice cubes," He elaborates, eventually, when it becomes clear Rin isn't planning on batting the touch away. "I thought it might help with the heat."

Completely unexpectedly, _**something**_ suddenly slots itself into place just underneath the rolling fog of heady anticipation steadily extending its reach over Rin's mind.

He hadn't even realised he'd unconsciously been trying to clear it up all along, really.

"I'm down with that," He starts, after a brief pause (to consider _other_ possible explanations for Haru's sudden interest in this particular brand of foreplay), but brings up his own cautioning hand in between their bodies nonetheless. "But where's this suddenly coming from? Did Nagisa give you a tray for them, or something — 'cause I sure as heck don't remember you having one of those things before. Not even back at your parents' house."

Haru's frowning down at him in irritable confusion, now, but he readily confirms Rin's suspicion with a nod either way. "... _Why?_ "

Encouraged, Rin gives him his best dead-pan stare. "Let me guess: that conniving little hobbit gave it to you as an unexpected present, on the very same day the remote of your air-con _just happened_ to vanish into thin air. I bet you even told him I was going to stay over here for a while, too."

Haru's eyes widen satisfyingly in belated realisation — and even though he doesn't actually _say_ anything incriminating, Rin can easily tell he's struggling quite a bit not to smile. Nagisa's got him completely wrapped around his finger, that one.

_Honestly._

"Want to give it a try anyway?" He asks Rin, then, and pointedly nudges his chin in the vague direction of the result of Nagisa's bold as fuck scheme. The insistent curl at the corner of his lips makes it rather obvious that the question is nothing more than a formality at this point, though.

A surprised chuckle escapes Rin's chest before he can swallow it back own. It's a little embarrassing, but he doesn't even have to think about it before answering: "Sure."

The expression that makes itself at home on Haru's face, just then, can only be described as _radiant_ (and the sight of it goes a long way to settle the majority of the nerves that have been steadily gathering in the pit of Rin's stomach). "I've got a feeling this is what _I'll_ be jerking off to next," He tells Rin, as casually as you please, while he carefully slides the little bowl near Rin's feet forward with his free hand — until it's in easy reach for both of them. "I never would've thought of using water this way myself, though. Nagisa's got some pretty good ideas."

Rin wants to fire back a witty reply to that, probably something along the lines of _'Should I be worried you're going to dump me for the shower-head soon, you water-obsessed freak?',_ but something about the openly assessing way Haru's watching him while blindly dipping his fingers into the shallow water inside the bowl next to them leaves him completely unable to utter a single word.

He settles for hurriedly grabbing Haru's other wrist for support, instead.

_Fucking hell._

How in the world did Rin manage to get so damn _ **lucky**_?!

Blissfully unaware of Rin's increasingly embarrassing thoughts, Haru experimentally curls his freshly chilled (and dripping wet) fingers around Rin's erection. It'd been starting to flag just a little while they were talking, but the shockingly cool touch is enough to revive it within seconds. Rin gasps, and fights not to squirm _too_ pathetically underneath Haru's mischievous ministrations — but it's absolutely impossible to keep his hips from bucking up into that delicious grip completely.

Haru doesn't seem to mind, though: he simply begins stroking Rin a little more firmly, just the way he clearly knows Rin likes it best, until he eventually grows bored of playing it safe and unceremoniously reaches back into the bowl to retrieve a rather odd looking ice cube (from what Rin guesses must be at least half a tray worth of them).

Rin avidly watches Haru hold it up between them just long enough for both of them to study its shape, eyes widening in recognition, and makes very little effort to hold back the groan that escapes him when Haru suddenly squeezes the whole thing into a fist — causing a surprisingly steady stream of little drops of ice cold water to land in a random pattern on Rin's quivering abdomen.

"No way," He breathes out, on a particularly shaky exhale. "Those things're _heart-shaped_...?!"

Haru smiles (that weirdly lopsided smile of his, like he's too distracted to control what his face is doing), and doesn't protest when Rin insistently reels him in for a satisfyingly sloppy kiss. "It's a nice touch, isn't it? Apparently romance isn't dead yet," He teases, gratifyingly hoarsely, when they eventually come up for air. "Did you honestly expect anything else from Nagisa, though?"

Rin reluctantly allows Haru to draw back _just_ far enough for him to be able to comfortably brace himself on the floor — instead of practically forcing him to continue resting a good deal of his weight onto Rin's heaving chest — and is swiftly rewarded with a series of feather soft, almost unbearably tentative touches of the ice (and Haru's cold fingertips) to the side of his neck and jawline. "Oh," He gasps, helpfully letting his head loll back onto the towel behind him in order to give Haru more room to work with. "That feels _really_ nice..."

"Yeah?"

In an absent-minded (yet remarkably successful) bid to anticipate Haru's next move, Rin relaxes his jaw and allows his lips to fall open just in time for the steadily melting cube to be manoeuvred into his waiting mouth. He lets it sit on his tongue for a moment, swallows around it once, and then nudges it forward until he's holding it up for Haru in between his teeth.

Haru's breath stutters, much to Rin's increasing satisfaction, and then he's leaning back in to retrieve the ice cube from Rin's mouth with his own. It feels really fucking _strang_ e at first, and for a second Rin's almost sure one of them is going to choke on the thing, but in the end Haru somehow manages to pull it off.

" _Fuck_..."

By the time Rin finally manages to to catch his breath again, Haru's already — seemingly effortlessly — guiding the ice up and down the sides of Rin's throat with his mouth.

It feels _really_ _good_.

It's so good, in fact, that it's making Rin's distracted attempts at some form of reciprocation far more challenging than they really ought to be. In the end, though, he _does_ eventually manage to snake a hand in between their bodies — and when the palm of his hand meets the familiar outline of Haru's erection through the cotton of his briefs, the pleasantly surprised little hiss that narrowly escapes being swallowed up by the noise of the fan goes a long way to soothe his ire.

Smiling to himself, Rin insistently nudges the head of Haru's hard length away from its resting place near his left hipbone — where it must've been creating a rather impressive stain on the thin fabric covering it, if the way the cotton stubbornly clings to the heated flesh hiding underneath is anything to go by — until he's successfully managed to guide the very tip of it out from under the rubber waistband of Haru's briefs. He's learned by now that Haru won't entirely appreciate being jerked off completely dry like this (unlike Rin, who actually really rather _likes_ it that way), so he settles for working his fingers around the still clothed base and simply holding it like that while Haru writhes and shifts appreciatively above him.

It'll have to do, for now —  until both of them begin to grow weary of the current pace, and the need for proper lubrication becomes too pressing to ignore. It's probably a little strange, come to think of it, that they've somehow managed to make their way back from the earlier frantic fumbling to this unusually gentle, unhurried atmosphere.

Rin quickly decides that he _really_ likes it, though; so he does his best to relay his own appreciation through the continuous, indulgent strokes of his thumb over the velvety smooth surface of Haru's glans (and an occasional content sigh, just in case).

Haru seems to have gotten the message, at least, because he's soon letting the ice cube slip from between his teeth in favour of diligently licking up any and all traces of its melted trail on Rin's body — pausing only to breathlessly nuzzle and kiss whichever part of Rin happens to be within easy reach whenever Rin's thumb does something he particularly enjoys.

The ice cube, completely ignored for the moment, easily slides off of Rin's shoulder and lands somewhere on the towel beneath him.

They stay like that for a surprisingly drawn-out little moment, simply enjoying the intimacy of it all (along with each other's prolonged proximity), until Haru unexpectedly grazes his teeth across Rin's Adam's apple — and the hand Rin had been using to cup Haru's jaw falls uselessly to the futon below in response.

Right next to the bowl of fresh ice cubes.

It takes Rin an embarrassingly long time to become aware of that particular fact, however — but when he _does_ finally catch on, he eagerly (albeit a little shakily) sets about blindly fishing one out.

It's not as easy as Haru'd made it look; but once Rin has securely pinched it in between his thumb and forefinger, he doesn't waste any further time before lightly pressing one of its rounded sides into the heated skin at the back of Haru's neck.

" _Rin_...!"

Haru _almost_ jumps completely off of the futon in surprise. It's painfully obvious he hadn't been expecting Rin to reciprocate (or _retaliate_ , depending on how you look at it). His eyes have widened gratifyingly, and his lower lip appears to be twitching a little — like he's itching to either bite it, or suck it into his mouth in an attempt to hide one of his more obvious tells.

Rin openly grins up at him, all teeth and gums. He's feeling _extremely_ pleased with himself right now. "You didn't think I'd just lie back and take it, did you?"

Haru's eyes narrow warily in response, just for a second, before they abruptly flutter shut all together as soon as Rin begins dragging the ice cube down along the taut line of his shoulder. "You're going to _distract_ me," He eventually manages to grind out in protest (but it's rather a lukewarm thing, as far as Haru's customary complaints go). Then he adds, for good measure: "Can't you ever wait your turn, Rin?"

"Isn't that technically what I'd be doing, though?" Rin wonders out loud, carefully keeping his voice neutral (and devoid of the teasing tone he'd normally use in these kind of situations). He obligingly holds the piece of ice still, just to be absolutely sure, right above Haru's left clavicle. "D'you _really_ want me to stop...?"

Haru actually appears to consider it for a while, closely scrutinising Rin through the lashes of one grudgingly opened eye. Rin gives him a moment to mull it all over in his head — and isn't surprised at all when Haru eventually meets his curious gaze head-on before caving in and cooperatively leaning back on his haunches to give Rin a little more room to work with.

Feeling even _more_ pleased with himself now, Rin immediately sets about making certain Haru won't come to regret his decision any time soon. Keeping a careful eye on him for any signs of discomfort, Rin props himself up on one elbow and starts out by drawing a large (and very _wet_ ) infinity symbol across the upper half of Haru's chest — carefully avoiding the reflexively hardening nipples in the centre of his awkwardly drawn circles. It takes quite a bit of concentration, but somehow he manages to successfully mirror the movement of the ice cube with the thumb he's still got lightly pressed against Haru's glans.

"Is this OK?" He asks quietly, when Haru's only notable response is a sharp intake of breath. "I know you're a lot less sensitive there than _I_ am, but... I can probably think of a couple of other things to try, y'know? If you don't like it."

Haru doesn't reply right away, so Rin tentatively repeats the process — only, this time he makes his drawing _significantly smaller_ and finishes up by placing a soothing kiss smack in the middle of Haru's pecs.

"I can't tell yet."

It's not really the response he was looking for, but Rin's pretty confident he can work with it either way. After a short moment of deliberation (otherwise known as 'gathering his courage'), he wordlessly pops the ice cube into his mouth and — after making sure Haru's paying close attention — gives it a couple of exaggeratedly purposeful sucks before carefully spitting the ice back out into his waiting palm.

Haru's watching him like a hawk, now, so Rin makes a considerable effort to maintain eye-contact until the very last moment as he slowly leans in to fit his lips over Haru's nearest nipple. The angle's a little awkward, not to mention uncomfortable, but the way Haru immediately arches his back in an instinctive search for _more_ of Rin's pleasantly chilled mouth makes the whole ordeal worth the trouble.

It's certainly no hardship at all, in that case, to repeat the entire gesture on Haru's _other_ nipple.

"How about now?" Rin teases gently, when he's done. "Am I getting a little _hotter_ yet, Haru...?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do let me know what you think! As you can probably tell, it's been really hard for me to find the motivation to keep writing lately... b-but, I swear, your lovely comments really help _a lot_ & I'd really love to hear any opinions or suggestions you might have for me. :)
> 
> (I'm going to try and get the 3rd — and hopefully last — chapter up by Sakurathon, so... wish me luck...)


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